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Star Turns
Martina Hingis was very hot and Pete Sampras was way cool in the first Slam of '97
Posted: Monday January 17, 2000 10:59 AM
By Alexander
Wolff
Issue date: February 3,
1997
Aussies call their island nation Oz, and we all know that teenage girls arrive
in Oz by tornado. In the case of Australian Open champion Martina Hingis, the
twister conveying her touched down and kept on
twisting.
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Hingis's fortnight was a whirl of skating, horseback riding and winning singles and doubles titles. Ron Angle |
For two weeks Hingis capered around Melbourne, and nothing could subdue her --
not heat, brushfire or the pestilence of first-week upsets that felled six of
the top seven women's seeds. The 16-year-old fourth seed from Switzerland went
in-line skating along the banks of the Yarra River and in the parking lot behind
the National Tennis Centre. She dropped some of her new wealth in the city's
boutiques. She went riding and fell unharmed from her horse, a mare named (of
course) Magic
Girl.
At 6:45 p.m. last Thursday, Hingis was still on court with Natasha Zvereva,
finishing off Gigi Fernandez and Arantxa Sánchez Vicario, the world's No.
1 doubles team, in the semifinals. Over the next 70 minutes Hingis took a
shower, got a massage and grabbed a bite at her hotel. As she and Melanie
Molitor -- her mother, coach and roommate -- sprinted the block to the Regent
Theatre to catch the 8 p.m. curtain of Sunset Boulevard, a photographer
in pursuit tripped, fell and wound up with a mouthful of Melbourne
macadam.
If all this makes it seem that tennis was incidental to Hingis, it was. She
didn't so much win her first Grand Slam singles title as toss it off. She never
dropped a set in the fortnight, and she needed only 59 minutes to be done with
Mary Pierce in the final last Saturday, 6-2, 6-2, to become the youngest female
winner at a major since 1887, when 15-year-old Charlotte (Lottie) Dod won
Wimbledon.
Lottie Dod, lah-dee-dah. "It's just another record for me,"
Hingis said after being asked if the achievement meant anything to her. "I
mean, I have so many records
already."
When Hingis and her mother arrived in Australia for the Sydney International
right after New Year's, Molitor didn't believe Hingis was in condition to win a
Grand Slam tournament. They had spent Christmas with Molitor's mother in Roznov,
in the Czech Republic, where temperatures were in the single digits and Hingis
had little chance to train. "I'm ready," Hingis insisted after she won
in
Sydney.
"Then show me," Molitor reportedly
said.
Matter-of-fact exchanges like that are commonplace between this mother and
daughter. At the Lipton Championships in Key Biscayne, Fla., last March, after
Hingis lost her second-round match to a player with a triple-digit ranking, Nana
Miyagi of Japan, Molitor told Hingis she wasn't working hard enough. Hingis
responded by saying she found practice
boring.
"It's either tennis or school," her mother told her. "Choose
now."
The difference between Molitor and the proverbial Tennis Parent from Hell is
that she gives her daughter choices. Hingis and her mother are determined to
avoid the troubles of two other players with omnipresent parents, Pierce and
Jennifer Capriati. Pierce's career was sidetracked by an abusive relationship
with her coach and father, and Capriati's by a lack of motivation and a drug
arrest. "We're not going to make the same mistakes," Hingis says.
"In every family there are sometimes problems. Especially because she's my
coach and my mother, sometimes I'm against what she wants me to do. But right
now we have a great
relationship."
They're both sensitive to suggestions that Molitor might be stealing her
daughter's childhood. "Traveling is an even better education than sitting
eight hours a day in class," Hingis says. "I'm learning all the
cultures, all the different nationalities and mentalities. When I first came
here, I didn't know that Canberra is the capital
city."
Unlike some prodigies who came before her, Hingis has never been incarcerated in
a sun-baked Florida tennis gulag. At her home in Trubbach, in German-speaking
eastern Switzerland, she has a court made of the same Rebound Ace composition
surface on which the Australian Open is played, but she says she never practices
more than two hours a day and doesn't lift weights. She fills much of her time
with mountain biking, soccer, skiing, aerobics, in-line skating, riding (she has
two horses, Montana and Sorrenta) and walks through the woods with her German
shepherd, Zorro. The only hint of the lash is that Molitor coaches Hingis in
their native Czech tongue because, Molitor says, "I can't swear as quickly
in
German."
If comparisons with other phenoms are inevitable, Molitor prefers to invoke
Tracy Austin and Andrea Jaeger, the former teen stars who had successful if
injury-truncated careers. "Austin and Jaeger are happy people today, and
someone should point that out," Molitor says. "Tennis is just a short
stage of your life, and it can be good preparation for the rest of it. I want it
to help Martina become independent and self-analytical until someday she finds a
partner. And I don't mean a doubles
partner."
When Hingis made her pro debut at 14, she had the look of a Chris Evert-style
baseliner. Now, with more sting in her serve and a knack for knowing when to go
to the net, she's beginning to hint at the all-court skills of the woman she was
named after, Martina
Navratilova.
Hingis's smile is part of the package, and it's not easily suppressed. Against
Pierce she put away a short ball with a topspin forehand and grinned. After
match point she embraced her mother, still grinning. "If we could play so
well, we'd all be smiling, too," Molitor said
afterward.
Hingis even smiles when no other player would dare to -- after a net-cord
winner, when the player striking the shot often raises a hand in ritual apology,
the most insincere gesture in tennis. Hingis was the beneficiary of just such a
net cord to go up 3-0 on Pierce in the first set, and though she raised her hand
obligatorily, she grinned. That's because there's no disingenuousness to her
yet, and at times a little would serve her well. Her title vaulted her to No. 2
in the world, and -- this will not go unnoticed by current No. 1 Steffi Graf --
Hingis says only injury can keep her from taking the top ranking this
year.
"Next time I have to play mixed doubles," she said in her victory
speech, after referring to the women's doubles title she and Zvereva ended up
winning, "but I have to give someone else a chance to win an
event."
She will become more politic, more mature. For now a wheezy giggle encroaches on
the back half of every second or third sentence she utters. She has likened one
opponent, Amanda Coetzer, to Speedy Gonzales. And while most players on the tour
prefer clingy aerobic wear, Hingis's taste runs toward classic pleated
skirts.
"I showed you," Hingis told her mother in the locker room right after
the
final.
"Yes," Molitor replied, "and I can't say I'm unhappy about
it."
As well-positioned as Hingis seems to be to survive adolescence, on the eve of
the final The Independent of London published a disquieting interview with her
father, Karol Hingis. He described himself as an unemployed tennis coach who
earns $166 a month as a maintenance man at a club in the Slovak city of Kosice,
where Martina was born. He said that since he and Molitor split, when Martina
was six -- mother and daughter moved to Switzerland a year later -- he has only
occasionally seen his daughter and hasn't shared in her riches. "It is a
dream of mine to be able to train Martina one day," Karol told The
Independent. "I know that Melanie doesn't want that. She thinks that I have
a bad influence on
Martinka."
| |
Sampras left the griping to his opponents while he focused his energy on winning his ninth major. Bob Martin |
While women's tennis seems unable to produce a teen champion without some
attendant melodrama, Pete Sampras, who defeated Carlos Moya of Spain 6-2, 6-3,
6-3 in the men's final on Sunday, has calmly plowed to nine major titles since
winning the 1990 U.S. Open at age 19. Sampras's toughest match in Melbourne came
against Dominik Hrbaty, a Slovak-born 19-year-old who made the 25-year-old No. 1
seem like a geezer twice over: First, Hrbaty revealed that three years ago he
had asked Sampras for an autograph; then he pushed Sampras to an exhausting
fifth set in their fourth-round match. "I could have easily been watching
the Super Bowl back in the States," Sampras would
say.
That he wasn't can be credited to Sampras's professionalism. Unlike a number of
other pros, he didn't bitch endlessly about the heat or dwell on his opinion
that the balls were suspiciously soft, even though soft balls would handicap his
booming game. When Australia's Mark Woodforde finally held serve after dropping
13 straight games during his third-round match with Sampras, Woodforde bowed
self-mockingly to the home crowd, but Sampras was the anti-Hingis, not
permitting himself even a smile. Facing Hrbaty on the hottest day of the
tournament, he shortened the rallies, husbanding his energy by going for aces
and winners. "Pete has a lot of gears he can go to," says his coach,
Paul Annacone. "And he has an innate ability to know which one to
use."
Sampras unfurled the shot of the tournament in his straight-set semifinal defeat
of Thomas Muster: an ankle-high backhand winner from out of court, around the
post and past the ball boy, which evoked an I-am-not-worthy salaam from an
opponent usually known for his Schwarzeneggerian swagger. Only Sampras could
have made the Musterminator look as if he had stepped out of Wayne's World, and
only Sampras, who subsists on a regimen of cable, movies and room service during
Grand Slams, could ask impishly, "Did it make 'Play of the
Day'?"
With his triumph in Melbourne he has won more than $26 million in tournament
prize money. Hingis has won only about $2.1 million, but she made her first
million sooner than any player of either gender. It's odd to hear a Swiss
citizen marvel at how a bank account works, but after Hingis announced on Jan.
14 that she had signed an incentive-sweetened deal with sportswear manufacturer
Sergio Tacchini that could be worth as much as $10 million, she rhapsodized
about the concept of liquid assets. "You can get this money out!" she
said, revealing that she had bought her mother a ring. Hingis particularly likes
to spend money, she added, "on big
cities."
She probably meant in big cities, even if she was about to put a down payment on
Melbourne. But during this still-young year she has done right by the
prepositions that mattered: Down and Under, and up and
atop.
Issue date: February 3,
1997
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